


And They Danced

by Jathis



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Dancing, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 00:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2328485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Earl is on a mission and has to investigate an estate holding a masquerade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And They Danced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dangersocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangersocks/gifts), [Maiden_of_the_Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_the_Moon/gifts).



> Set in the Victorian AU created by Dangersocks and Maiden_of_the_moon here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/66789

There were reports of immigrant children disappearing in the general area of a local nobility’s estate. The local authorities insisted that there were no records of these children having ever lived in the area and therefore they could not spare the manpower looking for them. The request for help had come from several distraught families, offering the Eternal Scout everything they had to try and find where their missing children had gone, insisting that the ones who owned the estate were responsible in someway.

They were relatively new money and there were whispers of an unnatural means for their wealth. Earl considered it an important endeavor to at least investigate the manor itself and he promised to at least go and see if there was anything to be found there in regards to the missing children. He could not make promises to return them and he found that his chest oddly ached when one mother assured him that she just needed to know if her child was dead or not and that she would not blame him should it turn out to be the former.

Because of this; Earl found himself using his title to secure an invitation to a masquerade to be held there a week later. It irritated him to no end; but with the continued disappearances and whispers of sacrifices possibly occurring, he supposed that it couldn’t be helped.

He also made a point of washing his cloak after Cecil and Carlos’ “blessing”, dryly reminding the Marquis that sweat and semen did not make for a good first impression. Cecil in turn glared at him, pursing his lips in annoyance before storming off, refusing to wish Earl luck on his mission.

* * *

Earl doubted that he would ever be comfortable in such formal settings, especially by himself. He hated the way he had to avoid locking eyes with certain men and the constant need to bow to every woman, whether she deserved it or not was tiresome. He was much more at home outside, where he could easily read and feel his surroundings and be allowed to look other people in the eye without being accused of staring them down or making them uncomfortable.

He had to admit that Night Vale was far better in this regard. At least that place was open about its hidden dangers and secrets. It did not try to hide itself with pretty words and masks.

Earl was musing about this as he was forced to participate in a line dance, wearing clothes made of scarlet and black fabric, his upper face covered in a leather mask made to resemble a corgi; (he had been given the mask by the Marquis and he was fairly certain that the man had laughed himself to sleep that night, knowing that the breed were known for allowing Fey to ride them). None of his dancing partners knew who he was but he was at least impressed at how easily they lied and fluttered their eyes at him, flashing teeth that were a little too white and sharp at him.

One arm bent behind the back, the other held up, palm out in invitation. Two steps down, face your new partner standing across the dance floor, and step forward. Touch palms with your partner, move your legs and feet appropriately to the music, whisper a few words in conversation, spin in a full circle once, and step back into line. Repeat.

From the corner of his mismatched eyes, Earl watches as the host of this masquerade pulls a servant in a steer’s mask aside. He frowns to himself, noting the way the servant’s body tenses just a little too much when a hand touches their shoulder. There is something about the way the servant carries themselves compared to their master; something reminds him of a snake with a rabbit. He frowns and braces himself, ready to slip out of the dance and…

"Careful, Elf. Do not jump in too soon and expose yourself. With hair and an appearance like yours I doubt they’ll pass up the opportunity to find a buyer somewhere willing to risk it." The familiar voice jerks Earl out of his thoughts and his eyes widen when he sees Cecil approaching, dressed in vibrant purple. His mask is made of mirrored glass, reflecting back distorted images all around.

Earl’s ears burn almost as red as his hair, his hand twitching as Cecil holds up his own gloved one, palms inches away from each other but not quite touching. Never touching. “Marquis…”

"It’s nothing as exciting as sacrifices or even human alchemy. There is only a mortal’s invented sin being committed here,” Cecil explains, his eyes becoming just a little darker. “He’s selling them. He’s part of a slaving network operating out of his own estate.”

“But how can he operate out here when the town is so close? Why risk grabbing people from here?” Earl whispers, lips barely moving.

Cecil smiles bitterly, “human suffering is cheap when you know the authorities won’t care for or even pretend to look for the victims. You’ve seen it yourself.”

Earl remembers the way the authorities had shrugged and waved away his questions about the missing and he nods. Yes, he understands that to the people in power, they can just decide that another human being is no longer as valued as another.

“His servants were all obtained this way. Everyone here has purchased at least one terrified human. Predators tormenting prey…standing tall on the bent backs of others kneeling in the dirt.”

Earl opens his mouth to speak but is stopped when they’re forced to move once again. He frowns to himself, watching as Cecil easily steps down and dances with a woman dressed in gold. He can’t help but wonder how the Marquis can smile and whisper to the woman, making her cheeks flush with color, knowing that she is in some small way part of this.

He tries to act surprised when his next dancing partner is the scientist. Carlos is dressed in white and black, wearing a feathered mask. Earl catches sight of a leather collar adorning his throat and he wonders if that was the only way he would be able to come in with Cecil. “Carlos…”

"It was Cecil’s idea to come here and assist you," Carlos confessed, "but knowing what’s happening; I’m not sorry. We dropped everything as soon as the pieces came together back home."

"I see…"

"I’m going to have a coughing fit and that is going to help us get down to the cellars where they’re keeping them. The Marquis will be dealing with things up here in his usual manner. I believe he mentioned setting fire to the curtains."

Earl sighed but locked eyes with the scientist, nodding his head ever so slightly in understanding. A moment later Carlos was suddenly hunching over, gasping as he hugged onto his stomach. Earl moved quickly, placing a comforting hand around his shoulders and guiding him off of the dance floor, weaving through the tables and confused looking masked guests as they left the room, following where Carlos was subtly pointing.

It only takes a moment for the pair to slip through a door that leads downstairs and suddenly Earl is in charge again, leading the way as long legs carry him down into the pits of a Hell he finds that only other humans could think of creating.

* * *

When everything is done, (and the fires are finally put out), Earl finds that his cloak offers comfort to terrified lost children as much as to Eternal Scouts.


End file.
